Rectify (Return to Us Trilogy #2) (22 page)

"Yes, Vee, I do."

Ivy

He smiles as his fingers grasp behind my neck and tow me in for a kiss. His chapped lips scratch mine, and his repulsive wet tongue probes for entrance. I think I threw up a little in my mouth.

I have no choice but to open for him and return the kiss with my tongue.

Eew! Get off me, you psycho lunatic. All I want to do is raise my boot and impale him with my heel. He would fly back into the bookcases with an astonished look on his face. I would force my stiletto into his torso until blood spurted from his chest. His last vision would be me sniggering as I ground my boot into his vital organs.

I wrench back with an artificial smile. Gah! So gross.

I pretend to savor the kiss by brushing my index finger and thumb along my mouth, but I'm actually wiping his noxious slobber from the corners. I would cover my entire body in Jacade's saliva but not Viktor's.

I fail to suppress the shiver of repugnance his touch sends through me as his fingers tuck a loose tendril behind my ear.

"Cold?" Nice try, Viktor. You're not worried about anyone but yourself.

"No, I'm fine." I rest my palms on my thighs and flex my fingertips into my stockings. The woven material pushes back on my flesh.

He locks his hands behind his head and surveys my face as he leans back in his desk chair. "I did love you."

Ha! I stifle a laugh. You didn't love me. Love doesn't force you to steal and kill.

"Did?" I peek up at him.

He chuckles. "You shot me. Remember?"

Ah, yes. One of my most treasured memories. Backing out of the door with a revolver pointed at him. Viktor lying naked on the stairs holding his thigh after I put two bullets in it. His fire-red blood pouring down the carpeted levels.

"I have the wounds to prove it," he says.

You may have physical wounds, Viktor, but I have the emotional scar from killing a blameless man for his car.

"Do you remember the night we sparred in the backyard?" Yes. Back then, I thought it was sweet of him to pay for an experienced trainer to teach me self-defense to make sure I could protect myself on the street. As a grown woman, I wonder why he let me work on one of his crews. If he loved me, wouldn't he want to protect me and keep me far away from danger? Like Jacade does, or tries to do.

"I recall kicking your ass." I glance up at the ceiling. I was a formidable opponent in my prime. I could probably still take him down with my kickboxing workout skills.

He laughs. "I let you win."

"I beat you fair and square." I look at him through my lashes. "You never gave me my prize either."

"No. No, I didn't." Yeah, you didn't because you were busy fucking two other women. "Maybe I can make good on it now."

He takes my hand and tugs me off the desk.

Oh no.

He pulls me through the kitchen and down the plank steps to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, one light bulb hangs over a cardboard table and two empty folding chairs. An intimidating bald man with tattoos and earrings braces his weight on a crutch as he stands in front of a metal door at the back of the space. Viktor yanks my arm to the door and motions for me to look inside. I swallow and peek through the bars in an opening in the door.

Oh thank god. A battered and broken version of Jacade reclines on a dirt floor against a block wall.

Purple-and-gray bruises mar his gorgeous face. Dried blood crusts his lips, and his five o'clock shadow has grown to an eight or nine o'clock shadow. Blood and dirt cake his dress shirt to his chest and arm. A water bottle rests next to his wrapped foot.

He's in one piece. He's alive.

Relief floods my system, but I can't let it show. I step back and glare at Viktor.

"Here's your prize." He waves his left hand toward the cell.

Excuse me? "What do you mean?"

"Well, you said you're angry with him... and he's chained up, so I'm giving you the chance to do whatever you want to him." He grins a yellow smile. "Except kill him."

Viktor gestures for the man to open the door. It swings open, and I stand in the doorway. My heart pounds, but I keep a cool facade. Viktor's testing me by upping the ante on our little masquerade. This is going to be an Oscar-winning performance.

Jacade doesn't glance up. "Trey, let's order a pizza tonight. It's on me. Oh wait, you guys took my wallet. I guess it's on you then."

My boots crunch on the dirt floor as I stroll into the cell. I cross my arms over my chest and scowl.

He lifts his head, and his eyes widen when he sees me. He struggles to stand, bracing his back against the wall.

Every sinew of my anatomy screams at me to run to him and hold his body close to mine. To comfort and care for him. But I smother the urge with my iron will and sway my hips as I saunter toward my man.

***

Jacade

The girl from my dreams meanders into my catacomb, but she's not wearing a white flowing dress. What the hell is she wearing? She's still fucking hot, but she's morphed into a common crack whore eager to suck me off for a dollar and a good high. My temper flares when Viktor lays eyes on her ass and licks his lips.

"Ivy, is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" she snaps at me.

She has every right to be pissed. However, I have to tell her she's not safe here.

"What are you—"

"You... don't get to talk." She rests her back on the opposite wall and crosses her sexy legs at the ankle.

Viktor hovers in the doorframe, watching our every move.

"You lied to me. You cheated on me," she says with an apathetic look on her face.

"No. I didn't." I hold my chin high to affirm my statement. I didn't cheat on her, and she needs to believe it.

"Uh huh. Sure." She purses her lips. "You're a disgusting ghetto thug and a con artist. Nothing you say is true. You're a filthy liar with no spine. No amount of money could make me want to be with a creep like you."

I hope she's swindling Viktor because this can't be my reality. Lack of food, water, and sleep cloud my ability to read her body language.

"Ivy—"

"I said you don't get to talk. You've told enough lies. I've returned to the place I belong." She glances at Viktor. "To the one man who will protect me and give me all the riches my heart desires."

Her lips are moving but Leo's voice rings in my head. He's right. I'm a no good crook. A failure she can never love.

"Please," I say, and her head turns to me.

Her eyes burn with malice. "We're through."

There it is. The head shot.

She walks to the door and halts next to Viktor.

"Make him suffer." She squeezes past Viktor and out of sight.

He smiles and locks the door.

I slide down the wall and curl up next to the chain around my ankle. Leo's voice continues to torment me.

Just like when you were a teenager. Still a hoodlum spawned from trailer trash. Your life is a sham.

I roll over and clutch the metal chain. "Not true."

You'll never get a woman like that. She's too pure for you. She deserves a man who can escape from a cell of captivity.

"No."

At least your slut of a mother knew when to call it quits.

"Stop. Stop it!" My hands cover my ears to silence his hateful words.

I squeeze my eyes shut and grind my forehead into the dirt floor. I'm finished. Defeated. My future has vanished. My money and power are worthless without her. I wanted to give Ivy the world. But she's... gone.

I dip my head and wrap the chain around my neck.

"Argh!" The metal links dig into my forearms as I pull up.

If she won't have me, why keep living?

Just let me see blackness. I don't want to feel anymore.

My eyes open to cracked cinder block wall.

Dammit.

The chain isn't even long enough for me to extinguish myself.

***

Ivy

My words demolished him. He flinched with each sentence like he was being ambushed by battle axes. But I had to do it. I take deep breaths to quiet my hammering heart as I follow Viktor up the stairs.

Viktor pushes me backward until my spine collides with the granite kitchen counter.

"I'm surprised you didn't punch him or something," he says as he leans in to kiss my earlobe. I turn my head and grind my teeth, hiding my expression over his shoulder.

"I wanted to kick him in the balls, but I like my boots too much." I close my eyes while his tongue travels down my neck. I picture Jacade in the elevator. His finger trails down my neck. It helps me get through this.

Viktor's left hand curves around the nape of my neck. Too close to my hair. I seize his wrist with my hand and guide it to my waist.

"Come upstairs with me, Vee," he says, his voice gruff.

Shit. What do I do?

"You go. I'll meet you up there after I use the bathroom."

He takes my right hand with his left and pulls me toward the grand staircase. "Use the bathroom upstairs."

I follow him because my plan will work better upstairs, and I don't want to give him any hints I'm not cooperative. His slow pace up the stairs drives me crazy. He stops us in the middle and half smiles.

"So we meet again on these stairs." Yep. Last time I shot you and ran for my life. I look down at my feet. The stairs are all wood now. No carpet.

"Mmph," is all I can say. I should've exterminated you. This time I will. I'll make sure not to slip in your translucent blood as it slides down these shined walnut stairs.

He walks me through the master bedroom door and gestures to the bathroom.

"You remember where it is."

I give him what I hope is a convincing seductive look. "Come with?"

He follows me in and stands behind me, leering at me in the mirror. His icy, rough hands grip the bare skin at my waist. My stomach twists into a Celtic knot, but none of my inner turmoil shows on my face. Jacade needs me.

"You smell the same." He slithers his hands over my hips and lifts the hem of my miniscule skirt. "Your cunt still tight as a fist?"

My belly sinks to the floor. No, no, no.

He grabs a handful of my butt cheek and twists. "Might wanna cut down on the Oreos, Vee. Got a lot more junk-in-the-trunk than I remember."

Dick.

Viktor is going to pay for that asinine comment and for every man who has ever ridiculed me about my body.

When he looks down to open his fly, I grab a disposable razor from the counter and clutch it in my fist.

He hooks his finger in the top of my thong and slides his knuckle down, pulling the string toward him.

I lower my hand out of his sight and maneuver the razor so the handle is sticking out and the blade is at the base of my fingers inside my palm.

He presses his body to my back, and his penis rubs against my behind. Oh god, please let this work.

"Doesn't matter. I'm fucking your ass." I squeeze the blade and cut my skin. "Trip do that yet?" He grabs my throat and yanks my head back. "I'm not gonna be gentle. You've never deserved gentle. Once an orphan whore, always an orphan whore." The warmth of my blood seeps between my fingers.

"Do it. I want it," I whisper. "Let me help."

I angle my hand so the handle of the razor points toward the ground and my fingers conceal the blade. I grasp his cock with my fingertips. He groans and his head lolls back. I wrap my hand around him and scrape the blade across the length of his penis.

"Argh!" He recoils and looks down at his cock. "Fucking hell!" The shock on his face would be funny if I had time to enjoy it.

He hunches over and grabs his injured dick. I push him with the force of a thousand men headfirst into the marble sink. The faucet nails him right between the eyes. Good.

Before he can recover, I make a mad dash for the door, lock it quickly, and slam it closed behind me.

Thud
!

His body slams into the door seconds after I close it. He pounds the door and wrenches the handle.

"Vee!"

I dig my heels into the carpet and ignore the pain as I press my shoulder and palms against the side of a tall bookshelf. I manage to nudge it over enough to block the door, but it won't hold him for long. My hand leaves a bloody smear on the side of the shelf.

"You fucking cunt!"

I stumble down the stairs. Viktor's screams echo behind me.

"Come back here, bitch! You're dead!"

***

Ivy

I fly down the basement stairs and pick the lock with a pin from my hair. The latch slides over on my third try. Yes! I've still got it.

My victory is nullified by the sight of Jacade lying motionless on the floor with a chain around his throat.